I’m not a fan of gory movies. I don’t like scary stories and I am not big on the Armageddon-level visions that pepper the Bible. I don’t even like reciting that line in the Nicene Creed that mentions the rising of the dead. Sounds too much like a zombie apocalypse and quite frankly, I’m NOT looking forward to it.
When I was eight, I had a softball coach who enlightened a friend of mine and I about the Rapture of Revelation, the Mark of the Beast and what was to become of all those people who were Left Behind. Thanks to her late night, slumber party efforts, I had nightmares for a week and spent the better part of each day listening for the sound of trumpets…you know, just in case.
The whole incident came to a head one afternoon when I returned from a bike ride to find my house empty and no explanation as to where my parents were. I was convinced Jesus had returned, scooped my folks up with Him and left me to fend for myself in a pool of fire. I was completely beside myself until my parents emerged from the garage and when I told my mom what I thought had occurred, she said little to ease my mind on the subject.
“I don’t understand why you listen to that crap, Julie. Don’t you know you can’t believe everything you hear?”
This was the same woman who firmly believed God made the world in seven 24-hour periods and yet, she was telling me not to place any stock into the Book of Revelation? Yeah, I’ll take Nonsensical Maternal Logic for $200, Alex.
“But mom, it’s in the Bible, right? And everything in the Bible is supposed to be true, isn’t it?” I wanted to know. (She didn’t answer but I maintain she didn’t hear my question because the thought of her ignoring me is more than I can bear.)
As a teenager, I had a religion teacher who proffered a two-fold explanation of the tall tales that occur within the two Testaments. On the one hand, she insisted that many of the creepy over-the-top images sprinkled throughout the scriptures were symbolic and reflective of the issues concerning the people of the time. On the other, she said they were the inspired words of God that contain moral lessons that we can all benefit from today. They had to be taken seriously and at face value, but not literally. Needless to say, this did nothing to clear things up.
While I tend to shrug off Daniel’s vision as a result of eating a whole pizza too close to bedtime, it’s a little harder to dismiss Jesus’ warning in the gospel. Something big is coming and we have to be ready for it. Though He doesn’t flat out say it’s the end of the world, he hints at it and in some ways the lack of detail gives us the most cause for concern. We won’t be able to predict it. We won’t be given warning and we will be powerless to stop it. We are always more afraid of the unknown as opposed to the known and no matter how heavily detailed Daniel’s vision may be, it pales in comparison to that which comes like a thief in the night.
As we journey though this season of anticipation, let us not forget that even as we await the annual arrival of the Christ child, we are also heading toward something just as imminent. It won’t be a rerun of a previous event and not even the imagination of Steven King can prepare us for what it might look like. We must stay vigilant, read the signs and recognize “it” when it comes.
Today’s reading for Mass: DN 7:15-27; PS DN 3: 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87; LK 21:34-36
